“She’s in a splendid place,” said Captain John.
“Shall I interpret for you?” said Titty gently.
“As a matter of fact,” said mother, the female native, “I’ve picked up quite a lot of English what with talking to you, but I’ll wallacallawalla instead if you’d rather I did.”
“If you know English there’s no need,” said John.
“Glook,” said the female native. “That means, all right. Now I hope you are going to let the natives see your camp, so that we can help to carry up the haybags.”
Mr. Jackson, the farmer from Holly Howe, had taken all four haybags out of the boat. He was a very powerful, strong native, and he picked up three of the haybags together and hove them up on his shoulders. John and Susan carried the fourth. Roger took the female native by the hand and Titty showed the way to the tents.
“Well, you have got a lovely camp,” said the female native.
“Isn’t it?” said Susan. “Would you like to come inside this tent?”
The female native stooped and went in. Mr. Jackson dumped down his haybags.
“Come on, Roger,” said John, “let’s get our tent all ready before she comes in.”
John took hold of one end of a haybag. Roger helped, and between them they pulled first one and then another haybag into their tent. They put one on each side of the tent, punched them and shook them until they were fairly even and covered them with their folded blankets. Then they lay down, each on his bed.